switch brown lighter on
blue flames burning red on green
then floating white mist

violence in the heart
do not ignore primal urge
grow strong, calm, and tame

a fan of paper
words doing nothing and still
are more real than life

rhetoric is real
a war can never be won
when will you believe?

the perfect flower
aged, wrinkled, strong with no doubt
about her beauty

they all have a scent
the aged wood floors of backstage;
all a past they hold